


not you again

by lovelylogans



Series: tumblr fics [15]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, Wingman!Remy, barista!roman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2020-12-20 16:02:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21059378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelylogans/pseuds/lovelylogans
Summary: Roman usually liked his job.He didn’t mind the early hours, and he loved the free pastries and coffee he could get on the job. The cafe he worked at was enough out of the way that the busy hours weren’t too extreme, and he had his fair share of regulars.Most of which he liked.Most.or: two terribly useless gays try to flirt





	not you again

**Author's Note:**

> mysticnachophilosopher asked: May I request, for the prompts, "Not you again," Prinxiety?  
lovelylogans said: thank you for the prompt, @mysticnachophilosopher! this was a fun one!

Roman usually liked his job.

He didn’t mind the early hours, and he loved the free pastries and coffee he could get on the job. The cafe he worked at was enough out of the way that the busy hours weren’t too extreme, and he had his fair share of regulars. 

Most of which he liked.

_Most_.

“Sup, girl!” trilled one half of the regular duo that came in around 9, the other skulking in, staring at his phone. Roman tried his best not to be too obvious staring at him, and instead turned a slightly pained smile to the one who’d spoken.

“**Not you again**,” Roman said under his breath. Judging by the snort of the other member of the duo, he did not succeed in entirely muffling himself.

“Any ideas on what you’d like to try today?” Roman said, slightly louder, already warming his hands up for some extreme blending, whipping, and pumping activity.

“Mmm, gonna think about it a bit,” Remy-with-a-y trilled, and practically shoved the other half of the duo forwards, ignoring his glower. “I’m gonna go over to the menu, V, you go ahead and order.”

Roman tried his best not to sigh in relief. Honestly, he’d probably be friends with Remy, it’s just that his orders were probably going to be the reason for Roman’s early onset arthritis and/or carpal tunnel. Logan, another one of the baristas, that Remy coming in on his time was the universe paying him back for being such a drama queen all the time. Roman tended to kick Logan whenever he said it. And, well…

“Hi, Virgil,” Roman said, trying to give his best I-think-you’re-cute-but-recognize-you-have-a-boyfriend-and-I-respect-that-but-if-you-ever-break-up-please-call-me smile to him, leaning forwards on his elbows. “Is it going to be the usual?”

“Think so,” Virgil said, and rolled his eyes at Roman as he glanced over at Remy perusing the board. “As always, I apologize in advance.”

“Oh, as long as you tip, he can order whatever he wants,” _and if you stay and talk with me,_ Roman finished in his head, propping his chin on his hands and staring at Virgil. His eyeshadow was _particularly_ well-applied today, and he’d been leaning into wearing purple more and more lately, which made his eyes just _glow_, and his hair looked so soft and fluffy—

“He’s been talking about how much extra caffeine and sugar he needs today,” Virgil said with an eyeroll, and Roman started warming his hands up even more, eyes sliding over to the flavor pumps. Did they have enough? Maybe he could go in the back and beg the pastry chef Patton for some vanilla essence if he went for something vanilla based, that would work, right?

Virgil snorted, as if he could read Roman’s mind, and said, “You know what, what’s the easiest thing for you? I want to save you as much work as possible.”

_Remy seems pretty high-maintenance. And, like, okay, I can be, but I’m sure dating you wouldn’t be work for me at all—_Roman let out a huff of air, and forcefully redirected his train of thought so he could actually answer the question.

“Probably just a plain coffee or a tea.”

“Tea, sure,” Virgil said. “Uh. Green’s supposed to be good, right?”

_You know what else could be good? Me. _Roman smiled. “Green’s good,” he said, reaching for the cups. “What size?”

“Medium, thanks. Is tea, like. Sweet?”

_I could be sweet! I can be a really sweet boyfriend to you. I mean, I’m not Patton levels of sweet, but I can handle declarations of romance really well—_Roman finished off the last scrawl on the calligraphy of _Virgil,_ glanced at him, and then back at cup. “I usually add honey to mine,” he said. “I know you’ve got a sweet tooth, Mr. White Chocolate Mocha, but—”

“Is that my usual?” Virgil said, looking surprised, and Roman laughed, dropping in a teabag and carefully pouring in the boiling water, not looking over at Virgil so he didn’t get distracted and burn himself.

“What, you didn’t know?”

“Remy handles the coffee orders,” Virgil said with a shrug, crossing his arms over his stomach, and if Roman’s smile was a bit more fixed, Virgil didn’t seem to notice. 

“Anything from the bakery?” Roman asked, gesturing grandly over to the case. “Patton made these little mini-pies, I nearly started crying when he had me sample them, they’re that good.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll take one of those too,” Virgil said. “Whatever you think I’d like.”

_Me? Can it be me? You can take me, you won’t even have to pay, I can handle the first date, I bet you’d like me—_

Roman cut off that particular train of thought firmly before he could get whisked off to daydream land. “I think you’d like the apple. Cinnamon and vanilla?”

“Apple’s good,” Virgil said.

_I’m good, I could be really good, God I wish you didn’t have a boyfriend—_

He carefully scooped the pastry into a paper bag and did not at all die a little inside when their fingers brushed.

“Enjoy it,” Roman said.

“I’m sure I will,” Virgil said absently, eyes burning into him, and Roman absolutely did _not_ let himself think about that gaze focused on him without the veneer of coffee and pastries between them.

“All right,” Remy sing-songed, swanning over to the table. “Ready for this one, big boy?”

Roman readied his hand with a flourish, nodding at Remy. “List it off.”

“Okay, we’re going extra today, because I have a _date,_” he crooned, and Virgil snorted.

“Yeah, finally, you can stop whining my ear off about how single you are,” Virgil said, and Roman dropped the cup.

“Sorry, sorry!” Roman squeaked, grabbing a new one. _Do not get your hopes up he could still have a boyfriend! They could be poly! You don’t know that he’s single!_

“It’s just,” Roman said, and laughed a little, attempting to sound casual. “I thought you two were dating?”

Remy and Virgil started to laugh, and Roman tried his hardest not to swoon over one of Virgil’s rare smiles.

“Oh, honey, bless your _heart,”_ Remy said, wiping an imaginary tear from under his eye. “No no, I’ve known V since we were _kids,_ it’d be like dating my _brother.”_

Roman laughed along, and couldn’t quite manage to tear his eyes away from Virgil. 

“Ah, boy, Virgil and me _dating,”_ Remy said. “Like, he’s a sweetie, and _look_ at this face—“ Virgil attempted to duck Remy’s hand’s cupping his cheeks. “—but _tragically,_ Virgil’s single. _Soltero. Célibataire—”_

“Yeah, we get the message, I’m on the market,” Virgil said with a roll of his eyes, and okay, yeah, now Roman was getting his hopes up, and his heart was a happy little fluttery thing in his chest.

“Hey, don’t feel bad,” Roman said, and struck a pose. “Even prize catches like myself are single, too.”

He _definitely_ wasn’t imagining the spark of interest in Virgil’s eyes, nor was he imagining the way his chin snapped up, or the slightly dropped jaw.

“Y-yeah?” Virgil stuttered, and Roman grinned, picking up Virgil’s tea with a breath, before scrawling his number on it and finally passing it over to him, delighting now in the way their fingers brushed together.

“Tell you what,” Roman said, finally allowing his most sultry grin to split his face, “If you wanna try and reel me in, I get off at one. Didn’t pack lunch today, either.”

Virgil’s cheeks were tinged the _most_ delightful shade of pink Roman had ever seen. “Yeah, okay,” he said, staring at the cup, and then up at Roman, a flirty gaze from under his lashes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“FINALLY,” Remy shrieked, and leaned over to smack a kiss to Virgil’s cheek before, much to Roman’s surprise, practically crawling over the counter to kiss Roman one-two-three-four times on the cheeks. “I have been trying to wingman you two for _weeks_, Virgil doesn’t even _like_ coffee—”

“Rem, shut _up,”_ Virgil groaned, hiding his face in one hand.

“My work here is _done,”_ Remy said with a happy, overdrawn sigh, cramming a twenty into the tip jar and then another into Roman’s hands. “Lunch is on me, gentlemen—I don’t think I even need caffeine anymore!”

Roman laughed, and felt his cheeks start to match Virgil’s.


End file.
